The Swan Princess
by amycc7
Summary: Only a vow of everlasting love can break the spell.
1. Chapter 1

This is a retelling of The Swan Princess I decided to write! It's Captain Swan. It will be fairly short, probably 5 - 10 chapters, and will go back and forth between the past and present, with a couple of twists ;) hope you like it! I'll explain more at the end.

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**Chapter One**

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Her body trembling, Emma gasped for breath as her body returned to normal. She bent over and clutched her side, taking a moment to gather her bearings despite the piercing cold water that now enveloped her feet. Even though it was probably all in her head, each transformation seemed to leave weaker than the last.

"No matter how many times I've seen you do that, it's still always a bit unsettling," a deep, accented voice snapped her attention forward. Each time she looked at Graham, she immediately felt gratefulness. She had been so alone and isolated since being imprisoned here until the Queen had started sending him down to the lake with her meals at night. Despite him working for the Queen, they had developed a friendship and Emma was sure she wouldn't have been able to survive this long with her sanity still in tact without him.

Emma sent him an unimpressed look as she stumbled out of the water, grumbling, "Try being the person it actually happens to."

"Point taken," Graham countered as he leaned against a tree with an amused smile on his face.

"Any luck on finding any maps?" Emma asked, trying to hide the eagerness and urgency that was bleeding through her words. For days, Graham had been taking every chance he could to rifle through the Queen's castle for any maps. Aside from the curse, that was Emma's second problem. She had absolutely no idea where she was. The lake she was imprisoned to was located by a castle she had never seen before, by a forest that contained trees she was not familiar with. If she had, she would have already done and still be trying all she could to escape. She was fighter, and it was killing her not being able to fight for her freedom.

Graham shrugged indifferently, but before Emma's hopes were completely dashed, he reached for something behind his back. "Actually…"

"Seriously?" Emma implored breathlessly, a smile breaking out on her face for the first time in weeks, as she eyed the rolled up parchments in his hand. Graham nodded and she darted toward him, enveloping him in a hug as she grasped the maps like a life force. "I can't believe it," she blurted enthusiastically.

"Shh," Graham ordered sternly, glancing around at their surroundings anxiously. "Keep it down, will ya?" he warned.

Emma mouthed 'sorry', feeling sheepish. He was right. He was already doing so much for her, and it wouldn't help at all if he got caught. "Help me lay them out," Emma said, setting the maps down in the grass and attempting to roll them out.

Graham grabbed a couple of stones from the lake to hold down the corners. There were three maps total and each of them covered various parts of the Enchanted Forest. "Can you figure out where we're suppose to be?" Emma asked with a sideways glance at Graham who was leaning over and studying one of them intently.

"There's no marking, but that lake," Graham said, pointing a finger down to show her, "I think I recognize it."

So wherever they were, it was over in that region. It wasn't much, but she would take whatever information she could get. Moving over to the map on the very left, Emma bent down and trailed her fingers where her life was, where she should be. "That's my home," Emma told him, her voice quiet and full of longing. "It's far," she realized with a pang of disappointment that made her sick to her stomach.

"I can get there," Graham stated confidently.

"But I can't, not as _me_ at least," Emma seethed, throwing her arms out, unable to control her anger of her curse, "the night only lasts so long."

"If you fly there-"

"I'm not showing up there as a swan," Emma snapped, crossing her arms. If she did, no one would believe it. For all she knew, everyone thought she was dead. And she couldn't change back into a human unless she was here…

Graham put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, promising, "Then I'll bring them here."

"You shouldn't have to do this by yourself," Emma argued, her voice soft, feeling guilty about him having to risk his life to help her.

"And you shouldn't be cursed," Graham concluded, sympathy and respect in his eyes.

Emma gave him a thankful smile, asking, "When will you go?"

"Tomorrow morning," Graham said, moving down to roll up the maps now that they had studied them, "I managed to convince the Queen to send me out for something."

"If she finds out you're helping me…" Emma warned worriedly.

"She won't," Graham protested with a confident smirk, "I'll be back by nightfall, hopefully with your prince in tow," he added teasingly. The words made Emma tense. If she was trusting what was said to her when she was originally cursed, the only way to break it was if someone made a vow of everlasting love to her and proved it to the world, _true love_. Ocean blue eyes flashed through her head and she immediately wanted to hit herself. She wouldn't think about him, couldn't think about him, it hurt too much. He was the reason she ended up here in the first place. Besides, the vow was suppose to be made to _her_, right? It wasn't like her feelings had anything to do with it. And she knew who loved her, at least. No matter what she had started to feel, _he_ had proved that it had been one-sided. Graham seemed to notice her hesitation. "Or is there something you're not telling me?" he asked warily.

"No," Emma said quickly, trying to push all thoughts of that stupid, stupid pirate out of her brain, "bring Neal." Neal would make the vow, he had to. She couldn't go on like this much longer. "Thank you for doing this, Graham," Emma professed, "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"A title," Graham suggested nonchalantly, "and maybe my own castle would be nice."

Trying not to laugh, Emma lightly punched him on the arm.

She would get out of here.

She had to.

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**6 months earlier**

"Emma, _please_, just pick a dress," Snow begged tiredly, throwing a handful of ones she had already tried on down on her bed.

Heaving another dress up her body, Emma muttered irritably, "What's the point of this ball again?"

"It's your birthday," Snow stated with an incredulous glare at Emma.

"Right," Emma sighed, barely glancing at her reflection before shoving the dress off. Pointless. The whole thing was pointless. She already hated the attention she got when they through balls on her birthday, and she didn't want… no, she didn't even want to go there at the moment.

"Okay, that's it," Snow cried exasperatedly, moving to stand determinately in front of her, "What's going on?"

Emma shrugged, feigning innocence, hoping to brush her off. "Nothing."

"Do you want to try that again?" Snow challenged with a raised eyebrow, seeing right through her.

"I'm not lying," Emma denied with wide, stern eyes. How could she talk about it when she couldn't even think about it without shaking? And with the epic love story her mother had with her father, she doubted she would be able to understand all the doubts running through Emma's head.

Her mother knew her too well, though, apparently. "Is it what I said about Neal maybe proposing?" Snow asked, a knowing look in her eyes as she crossed her arms to study Emma. Not knowing what to say or how to explain what she was feeling, Emma reached for another dress to try on, hoping she would just drop it soon. "Just forget I even mentioned it," Snow suggested hurriedly, "I don't know why you're acting like this, though, I thought you two-"

"We are," Emma interjected weakly. She loved Neal, she did. She had known him since she was 10 when she had found wandering around in the woods alone and since her parents' close friends Frederick and Abigail hadn't been able to conceive any kids of their own, they had taken him in. They had been almost inseparable ever since.

"Then what's the problem?" Snow asked, anxious and eager to understand and help.

"I don't know," Emma murmured honestly, moving to sit down on the bed, "I just don't know if I'm ready." Her parents' love story was one she had heard all of her life, and though she would never admit it aloud, it was something she wanted too. Even though she wished she could magically wish all her doubts away, something was just missing with Neal. Maybe it was all the pressure from her parents who loved him too and wanted her to marry. Maybe it was wrong to compare her relationship to her parents. Maybe a love like theirs didn't happen to everyone and she just wasn't one of the lucky ones. But there was something deep inside her telling her that was _more_ out there. She just had to keep looking.

"You are," Snow said with resonation confidence, sitting down beside her and cupping her cheek so she was forced to look at her, "Emma, you've grown into such a strong, beautiful young woman. Don't doubt yourself."

Her mother had been right about what was bothering her, but not why. It wasn't herself she was doubting.

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**13 years ago**

She had snuck out of the castle again. Her parents were probably going to furious, but she didn't care. She loved getting to practice the tracking her mother had taught her out alone in the woods, loved getting to climb trees and shoot arrows freely without the eyes of her parents and guards watching her every move. Gripping a branch close to the ground, Emma used it as leverage to swing down to the ground, almost falling on another body in the process. With a surprised shriek, Emma darted a few steps away. Her heartbeat started calming down when she realized it was just another kid. A boy who looked maybe a couple of years older than her. He was passed out so Emma concernedly tried to shake him awake. After a few moments, the boy awoke with gasp, clearly started and shaken. "I'm not going to hurt you," Emma told him reassuringly.

"Who are you?" the boy demanded, fear in his eyes, "You shouldn't be here."

Emma glanced around the forest, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Why not?" she asked.

As he looked around, the boy seemed to realize where he was. "Where I am?" he asked with wide, shocked eyes.

"My kingdom," Emma stated a bit proudly, and when he still looked expectant, she added, "in the Enchanted Forest."

Relief washed over the boys face as he stammered, "I'm.. I'm not…"

"Not where?" Emma asked, but he didn't reply. He still looked hesitant but he still couldn't keep a smile from forming on his face. Standing up, she reiterated, "What's your name?"

The boy opened his mouth, stopped, and then swallowed shakily before replying, "Neal."

"My name's Emma," she said with a smile, holding out a hand to him, "I can help you."

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**Present**

The next afternoon, Emma floated around the lake bored out of her mind. The days were getting harder to keep track of and the knowledge that Graham was on his way to her home at that very moment, possibly on his way back with Neal by now, was making her restless. The thought of flying around to study the area had been growing all day, especially now that she had seen the maps and could find her way back. They only ever came and checked on her at night when she was herself and could talk… no one would notice…

With that, Emma spread her wings and took off out of the water. If she was human, she would have been laughing, feeling giddy now that she was finally doing something to get out of that place, if even for a little awhile. She would probably be sick later, but it would be worth it.

Gliding over the forest and mountainous areas for a while, she could see the sun heading down over in the west as she began to double back, veering off her course just a little to check out the town she could see ahead. As she flew over the coast, something made her do a double take. Her heart start beating rapidly. Not just something, a ship. _The Jolly Roger_. She would know it anywhere. For so long, she had wondered what had happened to him, what he had done when she had been taken or if he actually had been working for the Queen all along, playing her the whole time, and she was finally getting her chance. But she _couldn't_… it was just a bad idea in general.

But…

_Damn it._

Curiosity, _that was all_, got the best of her. With a strong flap of her wings, Emma started to fly down.

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A/N: I hope you all liked it! Please review and tell me what you think! Or if you have any questions!

I wanted to write a story based on the Swan Princess, but wanted to do it a little different. The cartoon is seriously one of my favorite ever. The Enchanted Forest is AU like the curse never happened, and instead of going to the land without magic after Neverland, Neal came there. The next chapter will include more on Emma/Killian's past.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

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**Two months earlier**

Emma lay shaking across the wet banks of the lake, mud was seeping through her white dress, but she could care less, whatever had just happened to her had squeezed the air out of her lungs, made her world twist and morph into something else entirely. The blood beneath her skin tingled painfully and she didn't have the strength to move, let alone face the footsteps that she could hear echoing toward her.

Why, why was this happening?

_Regina_. She had attacked the carriage she had been hiding in, waiting for Killian to get back and tell her it was okay to move. But he had never come back. And somehow, Regina had overpowered her and brought her here, to _him_.

_Rothbart_.

The name alone seeped bile into her mouth and made her fingers twitch. Hateful, vile, sadistic.

_He_ had done this to her.

His hand plunging and plunging, again and again, relentlessly into her chest, squeezing her heart and wanting to take it from her. Bruises still lined her wrists where she had been strapped down. But no matter what he did, it wouldn't budge. Though he knew it couldn't be done, he kept at it, hoping the gut-wrenching pain would be enough to force her into telling him how she was stopping him and why and what would allow him to succeed, but she didn't have any answers. She didn't know why. She only knew that it was probably the only thing keeping her alive at his point. He wanted her heart. _It possesses the most powerful magic of all_, he had said. So until he could figure out how to take it from her, she was cursed.

Her bones broke, shrunk, and crushed; she sprouted wings; her entire form was changed.

_A swan_.

_It doesn't even last all day…_

_And when the moonlight touches the lake…_

No one was coming for her. No one knew where she was. She didn't even know where she was. She was in too much pain after transforming to move, too weak to try to fly anywhere during the day, and besides, if she showed up as a swan at her castle, how could she communicate with her parents, who would believe her…

_She was trapped. _

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**Five months earlier**

Emma took a long, hard gulp of the ale she had ordered, before putting her head in her hands with a groan. Neal had proposed. At her ball. In front of everyone. Normally, she wasn't one to run, but with him, her parents, and all those guests just staring at her, waiting for her answer that of course would be a 'yes', she froze. Her heart thundered in her ears and her entire body felt clammy. And then she panicked, taking off in a run before anyone could catch her, not bothering to see the disappointed faces of everyone around her. She would go back after one more ale, apologize to Neal and try to explain that she just needed _time_…

A shadow passed over her table and she looked up from her hands to see someone now sitting in the chair across from her. A man with eyes the color of the sea, dark hair, and an appealing scruff. He didn't say anything, just sat back in his chair, rum in his hand, and studied her curiously. She would be lying if just the site of him didn't make her heart quicken, but no matter how good looking he was, she wasn't in the mood to deal with any shit. "Did I say you could sit?" Emma stated in a bored tone with a raised brow.

"I apologize," the man grinned, but still didn't bother to get up, "where are my manners?" He leaned forward against the table, his voice dropping an octave as he stared at her, "Being in the company of a beautiful woman can do that to a man, I suppose."

She rolled her eyes, dryly asking, "Does that line usually work?"

"Most of the time," he said with a shrug, smirking before taking a swig of his drink. He pointed a finger at her, "I don't believe I've seen you in here before."

"Good observation," she muttered caustically, crossing her arms and glaring at him, hoping he would get the picture and just leave her alone.

Either he was oblivious to her annoyance or just extremely determined because he kept continuing to ask her questions undeterred. "Why is that?" he asked curiously.

Emma subconsciously pulled the cloak that was covering her ball gown across her chest just a bit tighter. She hadn't bothered to change. She had just wanted to get as far away from the castle as possible. "I'm new in town," she lied, turning her voice flat and uninterested.

His mouth tipped up at the corners. Raising his eyebrow with just a hint of suspicion, he challenged, "Is that so?"

Damn it, he was onto to her. Trying to stay level and calm, she irritably asked, "Do you make it a habit to harass anyone new that comes in here or do I just happen to be special?"

His eyes moved over her sitting form up and down languidly. "You're definitely special," he all but purred.

"And your lines still aren't working," Emma told him, reaching up to rub her temples. She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh at him, hit him, or feel sorry for him. For the love of all that was holy, the man needed to learn how to take a hint. The opening of the door of the tavern caught her attention for a split second and she reflexively shrunk back against her seat when she saw a man she recognized as one of the castle guards come in, not ready to go back just yet.

"Why do I get the feeling you're hiding, love?" the man across from her implored with some amusement, having caught her reaction.

"I'm not," Emma defensively snapped, but visibly relaxed when the guard left the tavern a few seconds later nonetheless.

"That's a nice dress," he suddenly quipped, not looking at her but at something near her legs. She looked down and saw that the bottom of her cloak had fallen open, revealing the silk, dark purple material of her ball gown.

Emma immediately moved as much of her dress as she could under the table, trying to decide if he was the type to try to rob her or drunkenly announce to the entire tavern who she was. "I borrowed it," she claimed, though she knew the attempt to keep up her act was half-hearted at best, she could tell he was already seeing through her.

He nodded, a knowing look on his face as he asked, "From who?"

A part of her was relieved that he was still playing along, deciding not to call her bluff just yet, but she was still going to try to get the hell out of there before he could. "A friend."

He raised both brows impressively. "You must have very generous friends," he commented.

"As riveting as this conversation has been," Emma interjected briskly as she stood up from her seat, sending the man a look that said the conversation had been anything but that, "I think it's time for me to leave."

"What if I buy you another drink, lass?" he asked with a teasing wink, but not making any move to stop her.

"I think I'll pass," Emma muttered, not bothering to look back at him as she strode out of the tavern. That had been close, too close. And it wasn't until she was about to get caught that she realized that she still didn't want to go home to have to face everyone. Letting out a deep breath as she walked, she didn't get two blocks before she saw a familiar figure leaning against the side of a building.

He pushed off the wall when he saw her, moving to stand in her path. "Fancy meeting you here, princess," the man from the tavern wryly quipped.

"You figured out who I am," Emma sighed, moving her hand discreetly under to cloak to rest on the sword she had hidden there.

"Of course I did," he retorted with a small snort, then took a calculating step toward her, "I did follow you here, after all."

"Why?" she asked carefully, her muscles tensing.

"Someone wants you, lass," he told her, shrugging nonchalantly as he waved a hand at her, "and they're willing to pay a very hefty price to get you."

Emma scoffed and sent him a unimpressed look. "I guess it is true pirates will do anything for some gold."

"Who said anything about gold?" he reiterated with a growl. The way his eyes had suddenly darkened made her stomach start to nervously bubble. He pulled out his sword. "Now you can make this easier for everyone and come quietly," he took another step toward her, waving his sword threateningly, "or am I going to have to take you by force?"

She wanted to roll her eyes at the mischievous glint that had sparked in his eyes at his words, but there were other things to take care of. "I'd like to see you try," Emma spat before pulling her own sword out of her cloak and charging toward him.

The sword clicked together in a X above their heads and he stared down at her, a wicked grin on his face, "I love a challenge."

With a growl, she pulled back and attempted to strike him again. Blow after blow, they blocked and danced around each other, neither one willing to lose. He suddenly pushed her against a wall, effectively knocking her sword of her hand before he pinned against the stone. "You're a tough lass," he murmured, a look of victory already on his face, just pissing her off more.

_That was it_. Suddenly bringing her leg, she kneed him where no man ever wants to get kneed, with as much force as she could muster. With a groan, he doubled over and dropped his sword. Taking her opportunity, Emma grabbed the knife she saw hanging from his belt and switched their positions. She slapped her forearm against his chest and swung the knife up to his throat. "Who are you?" Emma demanded harshly.

He studied her for a long moment before answering, and why the hell was he starting to smile? "Killian Jones," he told her evenly, "But most people know me as my more colorful moniker," his eyes turned hard, "Hook."

Emma looked over him, not seeing anything remotely close to a hook on his person before quipping, "Well either it's a really bad nickname or you forgot a vital part of your costume this morning."

His smile turned into a full on grin and she could have sworn he was trying not to laugh. "Would you like your hook back, Captain?" A voice coming from behind her made her freeze, with a bit of dread, she twisted around and saw at least five other men surrounding them, their swords and knives all pointed straight at her.

She slowly lowered the knife from his neck and begrudgingly threw it to the ground, glaring at him. She was outnumbered, there was no way she could even try to fight back without getting herself killed.

"I sure would, mate," Hook said, never once taking his eyes off of her.

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**Present**

Flying as stealthily as she could down to the Jolly Roger, Emma didn't spot Killian anywhere on deck. She sat herself on top of the railing against the back of the boat, above where she knew the only window to his cabin was, and slowly bent her head down so that she could see inside. Her heart twisted when she saw him. With his legs propped up on his desk, Killian was lounged back in his chair, gripping something tightly in his hand and staring at it intently. Shoulders slumped and hair disheveled, he just looked _tired_, so different from the lively, innuendo throwing pirate captain she had come to know. She had to push back all the feelings that were threatening to flood through her. She couldn't think about those times now, because apparently, she didn't know him at all. Killian's head popped up when he heard his name being called from above deck. With a loud slam of his boots against the floor, he heaved himself out of his chair, carefully put down what he had been holding on his desk, and stalked out of the room.

Straining against the window, she tried to get a better look at his desk. What she saw sent her blood pressure rising. _No_. It was her necklace, a locket with a small, silver swan engraving that she had gotten for her 16th birthday. It never left her neck. Well, it hadn't until she had thought she had lost it when she was captured by the Queen almost two months ago. _That bastard_. What the hell was he doing with it? She knew it would be reckless and impulsive, but damn it, she wanted it back. With a determined knock of her beak, Emma pushed the window of his cabin open and shimmied through the window, suppressing a squawk when one of her feathers got caught on the latch.

She glided over to the desk, ruffled all his papers around and kicked some to the ground for good measure, and then gently picked up her necklace with her beak. Hearing a clicking sound, she looked up and saw Killian now standing in the doorway, a look of utter shock on his face at seeing a swan perched up on his desk. So much for getting in and out without him noticing. He froze, continuing to stare at her intensely, and for a split second, she was sent into a blind panic thinking that he actually recognized her. But whatever flicker had been in his eyes was soon gone and he suddenly lunged toward her. Heart racing, she flew up to the top of the railing of his bed before he could catch her. Killian growled and then shot straight for her again, stumbling when she dodged him and moved to a shelf. She wondered if her smirk was visible on her face even as a swan, this was kind of fun.

"You're a clever one," Killian grumbled begrudgingly as he stopped in the middle of the room, glaring and pointing a finger up a her, "I'll give you that." She wanted to snicker at him, so now he talked to birds? Killian held up both of his arms in a surrendering gesture. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said, plastering a calculating smile on his face as he eyed her, "Just be a good little swan and drop the necklace, aye?"

Emma felt her anger start to rapidly rise again. If he wanted the necklace so bad, then she sure as hell wasn't going to give it back to him. It was _hers_. Why did he want it anyway? If it was worth that much, he should have tried to plunder it away already. Besides, she could never resist getting a good rise out of him. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the sun getting lower. Well, it was time to take her leave. She turned toward the window, making Killian visibly tense and wipe any feigning of good nature off of his face.

"Drop it," Killian hissed menacingly, his eyes darting between her and the window, anticipating her move. She suddenly shot straight for the open window, flapping her webbed across his face when she felt his fingertips brush against her right wing, almost catching her. "Bloody bird!" he irately roared as she zoomed away from the ship.

She moved as fast as she could, all her flying already taking its toll on her, praying that Graham would be back with Neal or her family when she got back. Maybe tonight, she would finally be free.

"Oi!" a outraged, bellowing voice brought her out of her reverie. She twisted her head down and saw Killian running after her on the ground below with a determined look on his face.

_He was following her?_ What the hell? And he was fast. Too fast. At this rate, he would either catch her or follow her all the way back to where Regina and Rothbart had been keeping her. Emma headed over the woods. Maybe she could lose him there.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you all so much for all the reviews and follows! You don't know how much I appreciate it! :)

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**Chapter Three**

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Emma was beginning to feel lightheaded from pure exhaustion. Getting dangerously close to the tops of the forest trees, her wings flapped furiously as she tried to get further away from Killian, but she was getting weaker by the second and she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep going. She mentally cursed him. This was all his fault. If he would stop being so stubborn about her necklace and just leave her alone…

She craned her neck and tried to spot him, hoping to see he was slowing down, but saw nothing. Where was he? Maybe he had given up. Emma tried to ignore the stinging in her chest at that thought, because that _was_ what she wanted, but before she could berate herself, she saw a flash of black and silver in the corner of her eye. She didn't even have time to properly react. Before she knew it, Killian was suddenly jumping off the cliff she was flying next to and straight onto her. He latched his arms around her and together they zoomed toward the ground, sliding across rock in a tumultuous landing. What the hell? She was going to kill him. Squawking, Emma wriggled and flapped her wings violently in an attempt to get out of his grasp, but he wouldn't budge.

"Give it to me, you ruddy animal," Killian barked angrily, trying to reach a hand up to grab the necklace out of her beak. Annoyed and panicked, without thinking, Emma knocked her head up to his face and bit down as hard as she could on his nose. Killian's head snapped back from her and he let out a loud grunt, outrageously growling, "_bloody hell."_

She was just about to take off again when she realized her mistake. The necklace had dropped from her beak when she had bitten Killian and was now laying on the ground between them. Her and Killian stared at each other for a long second before they both dived for it. In a blur of motions, Killian suddenly shot up from the ground with a triumphant smile on his face. "Ah ha!" he cried smugly, gripping the necklace possessively in his fist as he glared at her. Emma was inwardly fuming, equally mourning the loss of her necklace and hating that he had beaten her. At least his nose was bleeding. A small, but sweet victory nonetheless. Killian's eyes narrowed slightly and he studied her cautiously. "You're not just an average bird, are you?" he mused and Emma gulped nervously. How was it that he was still somehow able to see her even as a swan? "Why would _you_," Killian questioned, holding the necklace out tauntingly toward her, "have any interest in this?"

Emma's heart was pounding so hard, she could hardly think. Fight or flight, this was it. She could try to somehow reveal herself to Killian, or go back to the lake, where she knew Neal would be waiting and where she had a way to finally break this curse. It was suppose to be such an easy decision, so why did it feel like her heart was suddenly being ripped in two? Because she had made a choice between them before, she had chosen to stay with Killian, and it had gotten her nothing but disappointed and cursed. With a determined effort, Emma took a final roll off the cliff, spread her wings, and flew straight into the sun.

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**Four Months Earlier**

Pulling her hood further over her head, Emma carefully made her way through the crowded street of the town the Jolly Roger had docked in. She had opted to stay on the ship instead of joining the rest of the crew for a drink, but the quiet had gotten to her and she had soon found herself looking for whichever tavern they had gone to. Hook had kidnapped her a little over a month ago and each morning she woke up wondering if it was going to be the day she was finally brought to Regina, but it never happened. In a way, it almost seemed like he was trying to keep her from Regina now. She didn't know what had made him change his mind about turning her over, or if he was just simply putting it off, but whatever it was, she was grateful. It didn't stop his crew from eying her warily from time to time, like she was some dynamite about to explode, and she had heard Smee complaining about her to Hook when he thought she couldn't hear him, but she could, and his hostile words were getting more frequent with each passing day. But as weird as it was for her to admit, even to herself, she considered Killian a friend now. A good friend. And maybe even one day… she quickly shook her head. She didn't want to go there. She _couldn't_ be going there. She had seen the tattoo on his arm enough times to know that.

Someone suddenly stopped in front of her, causing her to run into the back of them. After gathering her bearings, she mumbled an apology and looked around and noticed that almost all of the people on the street had stopped. They were all staring in one direction, whispering and pointing excitedly at something. Going up on her toes, Emma strained her neck to try and get a look at whatever had gained everyone's attention. With a gasp, she stumbled backwards and ran into a window behind her. No wonder people had stopped. It was the prince. It was _Neal_. She could see him holding up a poster to someone, a poster with _her_ on it. A trickle of shame started to crawl up her spine at her reaction at seeing him. Her hands were shaking and there was a hint of dread in her stomach that was making it hard to breathe. She should be running over and kissing him and begging to be taken home, but she was rooted to the spot. Muted laughter rang out behind her and she turned to see Hook and his crew sitting around a table as they ordered another round of beer. Neal was starting to get closer to where she was standing and it would be just a matter of time before he spotted her. With her gut and mind at war, Emma made a split second decision. Sliding against the tavern wall, she made her way to the door and walked in, not once looking back.

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**Present**

Relief spread through her like a flood when the lake came into view. The second she landed and her wings grazed the water, she felt a familiar pull on her bones as magic began to transform her, a dome of shining mist surrounding her. The pain and sickening feeling was something she was used to now, but as the mist faded and she felt the final bone pop into place, she doubled over, her arms tightly squeezing around her middle, and gasped for breath. Her head was spinning and her muscles were already begging her to lay down and sleep. Flying had been a mistake. Going aboard the Jolly Roger had been a mistake. Everything had been a mistake. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes and she had never felt more hopeless. She jumped slightly when she heard a thud coming from her right, like something had dropped, but –

"_Emma_?"

At the familiar voice, Emma looked forward with wide eyes. "Neal?" she breathed, reeling and a little stunned, not expecting him at that moment, not when her thoughts were still preoccupied over her escapade.

Neal rushed into the water toward her and she saw Graham standing on the banks with a pleased smile on his face before she enveloped into a hug. "I can't believe it," Neal blurted, pulling back to kiss her lightly on the lips, a huge smile on his face, "me and your parents, we've been looking for you nonstop."

Her parents. Gods, she missed them so much. And now that Neal was here, he could try to break the curse. He had to break the curse. "I'm glad you're here," Emma said, doing her best to keep her arms from shaking as she attempted to hug him back so he wouldn't be able to tell just how weak she was.

"Me too," Neal grinned. Pointing a finger back at Graham, who nodded at Emma and ran back up toward the stone castle where Regina was expecting him, he continued, "Your friend, he told me everything on the way over here and I've got a plan."

"So you know how to break the curse?" Emma asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. But then again, was she feeling hopeful? She couldn't keep the small part of her that wanted it to be someone else who broke it from messing with her thoughts, and now that she had seen that person again, it had roared to life with a vengeance, but she was determined not to listen to it.

"Vow of everlasting love, right?" Neal surmised, taking a hold of her arm and walking her out the water, not noticing how she was practically using all strength for the few steps, "I'm going to make it tomorrow night. Your parents are gathering everyone to meet at Thomas and Ella's," he told her enthusiastically, like it was going to be the easiest thing in the world, "It's close to here, you'll be able to make it there before the night's over."

Once they made it on to the grassy bank, Emma stopped and turned toward him, taking a deep breath. "You're really going to do this?" she implored searchingly.

"Of course," Neal replied, reaching down to grab her hands, teasing, "But you actually have to say yes this time when I propose."

So that was his plan? She wanted to object, because it couldn't be that simple, that making the vow and proving it… it had to be _more_, but Neal _loved_ her, she didn't take that lightly, and he was taking the whole vow thing better than most men would, and also, judging by the way she her body was feeling, she was running out of time. "Okay," Emma said with a small nod, plastering a smile on her face.

"I better go help get things ready," Neal said, taking a quick glance around, "Will you be okay?"

Emma nodded again, shrugging slightly. One day. All she had to do was last one more day. "Thank you," she said, looking up at him with as much emotion and gratefulness she could muster.

"I love you," Neal stated, giving her smile before pecking her lips again and taking off into the forest.

With a heavy sigh, Emma stumbled over to the nearest tree and leaned against it, closing her eyes. She shouldn't' be feeling so guilty. She did love Neal, he was first everything and he would always be important to her, but was the enough –

"I'll be damned."

Emma's entire body ran hot and cold at the same time. This couldn't be happening. This could _not_ be happening. She turned her head slowly, her pride forcing her to stand up straight, trying to keep her face as impassive as possible. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked carefully.

Killian waved his hand over the water, closing one eye like he could still see it happening before him. "Ever since you flew down and suddenly transformed into a long, lost princess," he quipped, his mocking tone trying to cover up the bitterness there, but he couldn't hide it from her.

She hated that her first instinct was to somehow explain Neal being there, that it wasn't what it looked like, but why? It was what it looked like and it's not like he cared about what happened between her and Neal. She shouldn't have to explain anything. Finally, something in their relationship was her choice and she was going to keep it that way.

"I can't believe you followed me," Emma replied darkly, crossing her arms, realizing now that the thud she had heard earlier must have been him. Her heart was pounding furiously and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him or break down and ask him why he ended up choosing Regina over her.

"Of course I did," Killian bit back scathingly, taking a step toward her, "I wanted to know why an annoying little feathery creature was attempting to rob me."

"It's not stealing if it already belongs to you," Emma snapped indignantly.

"Technicality," Killian conceded, a smirk on his face. He reached up and rubbed at his nose, "You put up a hell of a fight, lass, even as a bird."

Unable to stop from sending him a smug look, Emma replied, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should," Killian said seriously, his eyes unwavering and steadfast on her. She had to blink back her surprise, having expected him to shoot back another snide remark.

Swallowing down the nervous lump that had suddenly grown in her throat, Emma coolly asked, "What do you want?"

Killian didn't answer right away, taking a moment to study her for a moment before he took a quick glance at the ground, looking a little torn. He took another step closer, gesturing a hand out toward her. "I thought you were dead," he stated quietly.

She suddenly felt sick. Of course the only reason he was here and talking to her was because he somehow felt responsible for what had happened to her. She didn't want pity, not from him. "So you're here because of a guilty conscience?" Emma accused, her voice shaking more than she would like, attempting to turn away from him.

Killian looked taken aback, his brows furrowing for a second before rage, and did she daresay hurt, flooded through his eyes. "You think I turned you over to the Queen?" he snarled, close enough to her now that he grabbed her arm and kept her in place, "Emma, I spent _weeks_ hiding you-"

"After you had already kidnapped me to bring me to her before you changed your mind, God knows why," Emma interjected acidly. Pulling out of his grasp, she hissed, "what was I suppose to think?"

"That I would have _never_ done that," Killian irately bellowed, his face only inches away from hers. Breathing heavy, they both stared at each other for a long stretch of silence. She knew he was telling the truth, and in a way, she had always known. She had just wanted to believe otherwise so it would be easier for her to choose Neal, so she wouldn't have to face the inevitable heartbreak that accompanied wanting someone who was still in love with someone else.

"I believe you," Emma finally said, her voice thick, unable to look at him, "I'm sorry."

He didn't say anything and she hoped that his silence was him accepting her apology. "I overheard your conversation with the prince," he said, changing the subject. Emma inwardly cringed, for some reason bothered that he had seen her kiss Neal. She wondered what he thought about the curse, what his reaction would be if she asked him to be the one to break it, but it was stupid of her to do so, because the was something she would never ask of him. It was too selfish, especially when she knew it was something he couldn't give her when part of his heart that would always belong to Milah. His hand on her face startled her out of her musing. "What else have they done to you?" he whispered, his thumb tracing the tired, horrendous dark circles she was sure were under her eyes.

"The transformations have been making me feel weak lately," Emma told him, too tired to pretend it wasn't affecting her anymore, "I don't know if it's me exerting myself too much or the curse in general."

"And what about that little stunt you just pulled?" Killian implored, waving his finger up at the sky.

"I don't know," Emma sighed, reaching up to rub her temple. She didn't want to think about the potential consequences at the moment. Killian didn't look pleased at her answer and opened his mouth to say something, but seemingly thought better of it. He suddenly stepped around her, sat down, and stretched lazily across the grass. "What are you doing?" Emma asked with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

"Getting comfortable," Killian replied simply, moving his arm under his head and closing his eyes.

"Why?" Emma asked cautiously, already sensing where he was going with this and dreading it.

Killian sighed, evenly commenting, "Someone's got to keep an eye on you until tomorrow night, lass."

Gritting her teeth together, Emma bent down and roughly pulled him to his feet. "You cant stay here," she told him sternly.

"Who's going to stop me?" Killian challenged, looking around with amusement on his face, "You?" And of course at that moment, her knees chose to wobble. Killian noticed, and with a dark look, reached out to steady her. "You look like you're about to fall over," he muttered, a hint of worry in his voice.

"I'm fine," Emma huffed, attempting to brush him off.

"You're terrible liar, love, always have been," Killian chided, sending her an unimpressed look.

"Here's the thing, Regina's not working alone," Emma tried to explain, frustration and anxiety entering her voice, just the thought of Killian and Rothbart in the same vicinity made her stomach twist painfully in knots, "And the guy she is working is not someone you want to meet."

Killian raised an eyebrow and before he could ask who she was talking about, she spotted Graham running toward them, his brows furrowing at the sight of Killian. "Emma, Regina's on her way down," he said, stopping to bend over and pant a few feet away from them. Warning flashing through his eyes, he added, "He's with her."

Emma's heart stopped. _No_. He had only been here with Regina once before since he had originally cursed her and it was an experience she never wanted to relive. If he was here now, it couldn't mean anything good. Trying to control the frenzied nervousness and fear coursing through her, she tried to direct Killian to the forest. "You have to go," she commanded, pushing at his chest.

The damn pirate didn't budge a centimeter. "No," Killian protested incredulously, staring at her outrageously.

"I'd listen to her," Graham quipped breathlessly from beside them.

Killian's grip on her arm tightened. Turning to glare at Graham, he growled, "Private conversation, mate."

"I'm serious, Killian," Emma pleaded, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at his hostility toward Graham, "Please."

Jaw clenched, Killian lowered his head toward her, rigidly asking, "What is he going to do?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Emma said, trying to sound reassuring. Her eyes were wide, begging him to trust her. In truth, she had no idea, but she was willing to say anything to get him out of there.

Still looking conflicted, Killian suddenly determinately stated, "Tomorrow night, I'll take you wherever you need to go."

What? "No-"

"Emma, you know Regina is not going to let you go without a fight," Killian's eyes shone with intensity and urgency, and he was right, she would be lucky to make it to Thomas and Ella's tomorrow night, "and this man, whoever he is, I've never seen you scared of anyone. I'm going with you and I'm going to make sure you get this curse broken," he promised, his voice fierce and unwavering, making Emma's heart skip a beat and break a little at the same time.

"Go," she whispered desperately, pushing him again.

"I'll be here tomorrow," Killian argued, making it clear he wasn't leaving until she answered him.

"Okay, tomorrow night," Emma reiterated with a small smile before begging, "now go."

Killian nodded and ran a few steps into the forest before he spun back around. "Emma." Before she could berate him for not leaving, he tossed something at her. She deftly caught it, and couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face when she saw that it was her necklace, and when she looked back up, he was already gone.

"Who was that?"

Emma jumped at the sound of Graham's voice, embarrassed that she had forgotten that he was there. "No one," she muttered, gripping her necklace tightly in her hand.

"It didn't look like no one," Graham replied skeptically, the slight hint of accusation in his voice making her defensive.

"Can we talk about this later?" she snapped, already wound up from knowing Rothbart was going to be down there any second.

"Why did you have me track down Neal if you're in love with some other guy?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Because that's just it, _I'm_ in love with _him_," Emma hoarsely confessed, never having admitted to anyone, let alone herself, but if Neal's vow worked and the curse was broken, she would probably never get the chance to and she wanted _someone_ to know, so that at least one day she could look back and know what she felt had been real, "The curse can't be broken with just that."

Graham's brows furrowed and he started to shake his head, "Emma –"

A voice that sent shivers up Emma's spine and bile into her mouth cut him off. "I thought I heard… voices."

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A/N: Hope you all liked it! The beginning of this chapter was originally suppose to be from Killian's POV, but I decided against, but if that's something anyone wants I might be willing to put it in later since the chapters coming up will have to be from his?

Let me know what you think!

Love you all :)


	4. Chapter 4

Just for an FYI, this one gets a little dark.

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**Chapter Four**

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**Two months earlier**

"Are you sure this is a good idea, lass?" Killian asked, a question that he had already repeated at least five times that morning, as he fiddled with the tip of his hook in the seat across from her. They were sitting in the back of an old abandoned carriage, waiting to get word that the crew had found some horses so they could finally set off toward her kingdom. Waiting… it was more like _hiding_. On her part, at least. A thought that bristled her pride irritability, but at this point, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Yes," Emma replied with an exasperated sigh, not bothering to look up at him as she began to wrap new bandages around the gash on her forearm she had gotten two nights ago. She was still feeling a little shaky, though she would never admit it.

She felt Killian's eyes on her for a long moment before he finally spoke up again. "If this is still about what Smee said-" he began, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"He was right, though," Emma interjected, her voice sharp, raising her eyes to meet his unwavering stare, "it's my fault Regina's men attacked you and she's not going to stop." They were lucky it hadn't ended as badly as it should have been. At least a dozen of Regina's men suddenly ambushed the Jolly Roger, and if it hadn't been for... well, whatever that magic that had seemed to come straight out of her body had been, it wouldn't have been pretty. And it wasn't like she had been in the clear after the whole ordeal either, the man who had managed to get a good swipe on her arm had used a poisoned blade, one that had been so _specially_ made for her. It had been through the haze of sickness and Killian calling orders to get to shore that Smee decided to let his accusations fly. Swallowing down a lump of guilt in a her throat, she focused her attention on her bandages again. "I can't hide anymore," she told him, her voice quiet, "I need to go home."

"And then what?" Killian mused, raising his eyebrow, a slight glower on his face, "A couple of castle walls aren't going to stop her either."

"I know," Emma said, snapping at him a little harsher than she had meant to, "But my parents have captured her before, they'll know what to do."

Regina was coming after her, with a vengeance it looked like, and because of that, she'd almost gotten them all killed. She couldn't hide anymore, or try to run and hope she eventually gave up, she had to do _something_. She ground her teeth together, biting back a groan of frustration when her fingers slipped as she tried to tie the final knot on her arm. Killian apparently noticed and with sigh he leaned forward, offering, "Let me help you."

"I've got it," Emma argued, pulling back from him. A bit of relief rushed through her when she did manage to knot it on her own. She took a quick glance up at him, "You've already done enough for me, Killian." And what had it gotten him? Nothing. Just the endangerment of his whole crew. And she was sure Regina was not going to let his betrayal of whatever deal they had made about her lightly. She should've just gone home when she had the chance, back when she had seen Neal in town looking for her, but like some kind of idiot, something about Killian had drawn her in and she still hadn't been able to escape it.

Killian's stare was practically burning holes into her again and she could feel tension radiating off of him. "Emma, I-"

Smee's sudden appearance in the doorway made her jump. "Captain, I've found a man in town willing to loan us some horses," his words soon turned slow and unsure the more he saw the dangerous, dark look that had overtaken Killian's face, "but he wants to meet with you."

"Tell him I'll be there shortly," Killian ordered through a clenched jaw, disdainfully glaring at Smee.

After quickly nodding his head, Smee hesitantly turned to her, "I see your feeling-"

"GO," Killian furiously roared, sending a pale faced Smee scampering away.

Emma bit her lip, knowing that the only reason he was angry at Smee was for what he had said to her the other day. She looked over at him and gave him a pointed, weary look, silently telling him that he needed to get over it, but he pretended not to notice. Pulling on his long, black leather coat in one swift movement, he hopped out of the carriage. "How long will you be gone?" Emma asked, leaning her head tiredly against the headboard.

"An hour at most," Killian leaned the upper half of his body back in through the doorway, pointing a finger at her as he ordered, "Stay in here. If anything happens, go straight back to the Roger and wait for me there."

"Nothing will happen," Emma said, rolling her eyes. They were off to the side on some old, beaten path for that specific reason. Besides, she could take care of herself. She waved her hands around at the thick forest of trees that were on either side of them. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

"And we were in the middle of the ocean when they attacked last time," Killian countered blithely, his blues eyes darkening slightly. Almost sounding like a warning, he stated, "I'll be back soon."

With that, he snapped the door of the carriage shut, leaving Emma to mull over the days' past events in the sticky heat of the forest. She wasn't sure how much time had past when she heard a faint rumbling noise, but it quickly dyed out with a few seconds. Emma furrowed her brows, her senses automatically going to high alert. Definitely weird, but probably just nothing. But then her head was roughly thrown back and the entire world jarred and spun in a dizzying frenzy. Shaking and disoriented, it took her a moment to comprehend what had just happened. Her legs were above her head, her back resting on what used to be the ceiling of the carriage, but was now the floor.

With a painful cough and gasping breath, Emma heaved herself to a sitting position, reaching for the knife that was stuck down in her boot. She had to get the hell out of there and she wasn't sure how many of Regina's men should could take on her own. She kicked the door once, twice, before it finally popped up and Emma tried to maneuver her way out of the wreckage. The knife flew out of her hand on account of some other force before her feet even hit the ground. Emma stood frozen in shock at the person standing before her. "Regina," she breathed, her muscles already tensing to fight her, with her bare hands if she had to.

"Hello, princess," Regina replied, a wicked smirk on her face and with a flick of her wrist, Emma was suddenly flying backwards, slamming into a tree, the ringing in her ears the last thing she heard before blacking out.

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**Present**

Not answering, Emma remained motionless beside Graham as she stared down Rothbart with a look of utter contempt. She wasn't sure if the knot in her throat was from disgust or fear and her heart started to pound profusely in anticipation. One more day. That's all. She repeated the phrase like a mantra in her head.

"Has your curse suddenly caused you to become mute?" Rothbart quipped, impatience lacing his voice, as he finally stepped out of the shadows with Regina trailing close behind him. He was wearing the same old, black, filth-ridden cloak, the leather beneath it filled with scratches and bloodstains. His matted, dark red hair of his head and beard flickered ominously in the dim moonlight and if he wasn't already beastly looking enough, his frame so large and creature-like, so _in-human_, Emma was certain she could probably smell him a mile off. Her eyes flitted briefly over to Regina, who was in her customary ostentatious, gaudy attire, holding a small box in her hand and studying Emma with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes.

Keeping her face as stoic as possible, Emma gritted her teeth and answered, "No."

Rothbart took a step toward her, his black eyes canvassing the area. "Then what were all those voices I was hearing?" he asked, his voice deep and scratchy and patronizing, contrasting with whatever nonchalant ease he was trying to pull off. Emma knew better. Her muscles had already started to tense so much it was borderline painful. It was like waiting for an explosion after setting a fuse, where seconds feel like hours, seconds of knowing no matter how much you ready yourself for it, it still catches you off guard every time.

"I was talking to the guard," Emma said, keeping her voice level and even, her necklace feeling like a heavy weight in her hand. She knew Killian and Neal were probably far away enough by now, but she couldn't help a small flutter of panic from developing in her stomach.

"Which reminds me," Regina drawled, still trailing near the water. Turning toward Graham, she sharply ordered, "Leave us."

Emma glued her eyes to the ground as he left, knowing that if she doesn't, there's a good chance she might do something stupid like ask him not leave her here alone. Realizing how close Rothbart had suddenly got to her, Emma reflexively crossed her arms and took a tiny step back, but she found herself backed into a tree. "What do you want?" Emma demanded, sending him a hard glare.

"What I've always wanted," Rothbart hungrily answered, grazing his fingernails across the top of her chest, making her stomach churn. His hot, seedy breath ghosted over her face and she couldn't stop from turning her head, "but that's not what I came down here for tonight." In the blink of an eye, Rothbart reached down and roughly gripped her forearm, violently yanking her entire arm up, causing Emma to involuntarily gasp. With a menacing sneer, he slowly began twisting her wrist when she did not immediately let go of the necklace. Tears springing into her eyes, Emma tried to hold on as long as she could until it felt like her entire arm would snap in two, and with a regretful cry, she let it fall to the ground. Her entire arm pulsed and burned as she watched him pick it up and dangle it in front of her. "Now where did you get this?"

Swallowing hard, Emma hoarsely replied, "I've had it."

Rothbart raised his eyebrows and let out a cold, humorless chuckle. The searing, stinging slap of the back of his hand whipped across her face and she roughly tumbled to the ground. Her hand automatically came up to cup her cheek, but she winced and pulled away, pain radiating from the area. "It's not nice to lie," Rothbart said, chiding her as a mad, mocking glint entered his eyes, "Did your darling prince give it to you on his way to prepare your ball?"

Emma froze. While Killian had been the one to give her the necklace, Neal had been here too. He knew. But how? There was no possible way. She had been so careful… planned the entire thing out with Graham so meticulously to make sure they didn't. Trying to keep her face blank, she looked up at Regina, but she was eyeing Emma's necklace with a knowing curiosity. Emma didn't have time to dwell on the Queen's action though, and instead, she turned back to Rothbart and snarled, "What prince?"

"We know he was here, dear," Regina answered, a fake, sickly sweet smile on her face, looking way too smug as she took a step toward the pair.

Emma forced herself to stand up and glared darkly at Regina. "You don't know anything."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Regina countered, smirking as she opened the box in her hand and pulled out a glowing red heart.

Emma stared at it for a long moment, pushing down all the horror that had begun to rise in her. "Whose heart is that?" Emma whispered, her voice careful and guarded.

"Our dear Graham's, of course," Regina informed her, feigning puzzlement at Emma's ignorance. She held up the heart and observed it in her hand with a smile on her face, "I've had it for quite some time now and there's nothing he won't tell me."

It took everything in her to not go over there and slap it out of her hand, to run and find Graham and stick it back in his chest, where it belonged. Having your heart taken was something _no one_ deserved, especially not him. But she knew if she did, it would probably only make things worse for the both of them. It panicked her to know that Graham must have been forced to tell them all he knew when he had gone back up to the castle after dropping Neal off. At that thought, Emma immediately began feeling ashamed at the amount of relief that washed through her realizing that Graham hadn't seen Killian before he had gone back to castle, only after, at least that secret was still safe. She wasn't naïve enough to think it would be for long, though, but she just needed one day. If Neal didn't break the curse… she didn't know what she would do. "The moment this curse is broken," Emma stated, her words and suffocating anger directed at Regina. Every hateful, infuriated, helpless, sorry emotion that had ever stemmed from Regina's constant attacks against her and her family mustered into one withering glare as she venomously threatened, "I am going to kill you myself."

And then she felt it, the brief, flickering of magic radiating from her fingertips and she could have sworn she saw a brief flash of wariness pass through Regina's eyes as she took a small, but still noticeable, step back. Rothbart's muffled, sadistic laughter distracted her. "This curse will never be broken," he spat, his voice raising an octave.

"If you want to stop me, you're going to have to kill me," Emma hissed, calling his bluff. He wanted her magic, her heart, too much to kill her.

"Tell me, princess," Rothbart challenged, a maniacal leer forming on his face, "How do you expect to even be let into the castle?"

Emma blinked, his words throwing her for a loop. Before she could stop herself, her brows furrowed slightly in confusion. With a demented grin, he pointed up at the sky and continued, "Tomorrow night… there is no moon."

_No_. Her eyes darted toward the sky and took in the thin, crescent moon. He was right. No, no, _no_. This couldn't be happening. How could she have not realized? Everything inside her was breaking. In an attempt to control some of the panic spewing from her chest, she tried to reason it out. It would still be okay if she was a swan, Killian was coming to get her and he would be able to explain to Neal that it was her. But then he would probably get arrested for kidnapping her if her parents saw him… and how was she suppose to say yes to Neal's proposal if she couldn't even talk? He couldn't just declare his love for a swan, people would think he was crazy, or into some really creepy shit, and what if they needed to kiss… "What," Emma murmured breathlessly, staring up at the sky with wide eyes, feeling hopeless and desperate. It had to work. She couldn't live like this any longer. Every day was more suffocating and breaking than the last.

"No need to fret," Rothbart told her with fake pity that made Emma loathe him even more, "Regina will take your place."

He flicked his wrist and Regina was enveloped into a cloud of smoke. Once it faded, she was looking at… _herself_. It was a direct mirror image. The same ill-fitted white dress she had been given halfway through her time imprisonment, the same long, golden locks, the same eyes… it was just so twisted, so surreal, Emma just kept staring with her mouth agape. "No," she whispered, getting more perturbed and alarmed the longer her look alike stood before her. There was no way Regina could actually be _her_, no way even her parents wouldn't notice, the whole thing was just so _impossible_. Emma began to furiously shake her head, "they won't be fooled."

"Even with this?" Rothbart argued knowingly, tossing her necklace to Regina/her, who proceeded to put it on. Emma had to suppress the urge to rip it from her neck, but then her double sent her a sarcastic, tight-lipped smile, one that looked so much like _her_, that she even thought she was looking in the mirror for a split second. It made her blood turn cold. "You don't seem so sure," Rothbart mused, his towering form coming closer to her.

"No," Emma repeated, a sob threatening to rip from the back of her throat. They would know. They _had_ to know.

"Everyone there will be so happy to finally have their princess back," Rothbart's gruff voice sent her skin crawling as he menacingly stood in front of her, his eyes flashing an animalistic yellow that shook her to her core and terrified her, reminding her of the nightmares she still had every night, "and the moment your prince steps forward to make that vow of _everlasting love_," he sneered mockingly, "she'll stick her hand in his chest, rip out his heart, and crush it in front of the whole world." Horror slashed through her; the wild, excited, deranged glint of his eyes disgusting her thoroughly, "And then she'll bring your parents to me, where I'll let you watch as I do the same thing to them, except perhaps a little slower," his heated breath felt like acid on her face, "and then maybe after all that, you finally won't be strong enough to keep that heart of yours away from me."

Her entire body was shaking, the feeling of being of sick threatening her senses and making her eyes water and her head spin so much she could barely see. No. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't let it. "You're a monster," Emma croaked, hateful accusation dripping in her voice.

Rothbart shrugged indifferently before suddenly grabbing her head, his unkempt fingernails clawing into her face. "Would you like a preview?"

She couldn't stop the flow of images from coursing through her head. _Neal lying on a ballroom floor, bloody chest open for the world to see; her parents trapped in a dark, stone room, their piercing screams echoing and echoing… and then a dark sky looms before her, her entire kingdom burning to the ground as a demonic, winged beast flies across the sky with her heart gripped in its talons, piles of bodies-_ "Stop!" Emma screamed between heaving, sobbing breaths, scrunching her eyes closed and thrashing her hands at his arms until she's sure she doesn't have any strength left.

Emma's brought back to the present with a whoosh, her lungs feeling like they're about to collapse as Rothbart wrapped a hand around her neck, choking her and hauling her against a tree. "How does it feel knowing you'll be responsible for their deaths?" he viciously snarled, "That there's nothing you can do to stop me?" With that, something inside Emma snapped and broke, and with strained growl, magic exploded from her fingertips. Rothbart anticipated her action, though, and him trying to block whatever she had just tried to throw at him, sent them both flying in the air. Jagged rocks cut into Emma's shoulder as she landed and she rolled across the ground roughly before skidding to a stop, the world getting dimmer by the second. She faintly heard Rothbart's rough voice from some distance off as he said, "Now that's magic I can't wait to get my hands on."

She tried to stand back up, to attack him and charge at him again with everything she's got, but her body felt like it was seizing, and she soon slipped back down to the ground, darkness overtaking her.

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Thanks for reading and please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone :) Sorry it's been awhile! Real life started getting in the way of writing, but I'm back! And I hope you like the update!

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**Chapter Five **

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**Two months earlier**

Emma stared down in her hands in shock, shaking and unsure of what had just happened. The Jolly Roger had been ambushed by the Queen's guards, something neither her nor Killian had seen coming since the ship was currently sailing in the middle of the ocean, but they had forgotten one very important thing, _magic_, and somehow Regina had transported them all onto to the ship, each one popping up in a cloud of purple smoke. Being taken by surprise, they had been at a disadvantage, and if she was being honest with herself, they had definitely been losing, until she had glanced at Killian fighting beside her. Something inside her had snapped and beams of light had shot out of her fingertips, knocking all the Queen's men unconscious to the ground. The crew had all stopped and stared at her in shock until Killian had finally spoke up, ordering them to tie the men up and stick them in one of the rowboats to leave out in the middle of the ocean. Emma was still staring at her hands. Magic. She had just done magic. And she had no idea how.

Killian's voice made her jump. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice tired and stressed and closer to her ear than she had expected.

"What did I just do?" Emma sputtered out shakily, because she was clearly _not_ alright if magic had just exploded from her fingertips without her knowledge that she had even possessed it.

Apparently, her doing magic wasn't that big of a concern to him or seem to bother him as much as it did her. "Are you hurt?" Killian reiterated more sternly, moving to grab forearm, trying to gently inspect the gash she had gotten sometime during the fight.

Emma shook him off, attempting to gather her bearings. Even though he hadn't explicitly said it, he was right, whatever she had just done wasn't their main priority right now. "It's not bad," she told him, glancing at it nonchalantly, it wasn't the worst wound she had ever gotten, "it's fine."

Shoulders tense, Killian looked around at the rest of the ship and then nodded his head toward the cut, ordering, "Bandage it while I take care of the rest of the crew."

She nodded back at him, and he quickly strode off, bellowing orders. Damage had been done to the mast and some of the sails, it would be awhile before they would be able to start sailing again. She maneuvered around the ship, trying to help where she could, but she found she was still trembling and was feeling dizzy for some reason. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the crew members that had always been friendly toward her, O'Malley, putting a terribly made make-shift bandage along his shoulder, blood still seeping through. "I'm sorry," Emma apologized as she shakily made her way over to him, feeling a surge of guilt at the sight of him. The only reason those men had attacked the ship in the first place was because she was on it.

"It's only a flesh wound, your Highness," O'Malley replied gruffly, sending her a toothy grin. Before she could return it, a jolt of sickness shot through her and she felt herself hurriedly grab the railing to steady herself. She scrunched her eyes shut, attempting to get a hold of her now labored breathing, wondering what the hell was wrong with her.

Breathing deeply through her nose, Emma opened her eyes and found that the ship was now tilting at weird angle. "Where's the captain?" she asked quietly, the action of saying the words tiring her even more. O'Malley gave her a funny look, but he pointed her toward the helm, nonetheless. Emma slowly made her way over there, not daring to attempt the stairs, and yelled as loudly as she could up at Killian, who had his back turned and was conversing with one of the men about the rudder, "Killian."

"What is it, love?" Killian inquired absentmindedly, back still turned to her and preoccupied with what he was doing, or he probably would have shot her a stern look for calling him 'Killian' in front of his crew.

"Something's wrong," she croaked, her head now pounding with pain, and only then did she see him turn his head, "I can't-" Dizziness washed over her before she could finish and she fell backwards, but before she could hit the ground like she expected, two steady arms grabbed her from behind. She blurrily saw O'Malley standing above her, concern etching his features.

Killian was in front of them in seconds. "Give her to me," he barked. Emma felt herself being carefully passed over to him, too weak to protest, and she only felt the slightest hint of relief when Killian picked her up fully and cradled her against his chest.

O'Malley was probing at her arm. "It's poisoned," he announced, but his voice felt like it was coming from far away, distant and echoing. Everything became a blur, happening too quick for her to understand, or maybe the sickness was putting her in such a haze that she couldn't. Her body was burning and her lungs were constricting, causing her to wheeze painfully.

A cold rag slung across her forehead, temporarily relieving her and letting her focus. She barely registered that she was now in Killian's room, lying in the bed. Killian was sitting on the bed beside her, staring down at her, a heartbreaking worry shining in his eyes. "Does that feel any better?" he asked, adjusting the cloth slightly on her head.

Swallowing hard, Emma nodded, managing to let out a hoarse, "Thank you."

Killian quickly shook his head, cutting her off. "No need to thank me, love," he said, giving her what she guessed was suppose to be a reassuring smile, but the shakiness of it told her otherwise. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the noise of the door opening sent him shooting to his feet, his face turning back into a hard mask as various crew members entered the room, doing and saying things she didn't have the energy to pay attention to.

A burning sensation entered her lungs as a coughing fit overtook her for a moment and she covered her mouth with her hand to quiet the noise. But when she pulled it away after she finally caught her breath, the bright red liquid spattered there made her heart leap up to her throat. She must have gasped because she looked up and saw all eyes on the room now on her. Instinctively, she closed her hand in a fist and tried to hide it under the covers, but Killian lunged for hand and pried it opened all too easily.

He froze, the color visibly draining from his face when he discovered the blood that had been spewing from her lungs. "We need to get shore now," he ordered, his voice low and terse as he still stared down at her hand.

"Captain," Smee said, coming up next to Killian with a hint of nervous anxiety written on his face, "the Jolly Roger is no where near ready to sail yet."

Killian dropped her hand gently back on the bed and stiffly turned to Smee, his features dark and commanding. "Then make her ready."

"To save her?" Smee stammered, pointing down at Emma exasperatedly, "She's the reason for all of this. We should be setting sail for the Queen's palace."

"No," Killian hissed through a clenched jaw.

"She's dying anyway, handing her over-"

Mr. Smee was suddenly thrown against the wall. He hit it with a loud thud and was roughly pinned there by Killian, who had his hook menacingly digging into his throat. "One more word and I'm throwing you off the ship," he roared, the pure outrage in his voice shocking Emma. "I'm the Captain, now do as I say," he bellowed in a vehement voice before letting Smee unceremoniously topple to the ground. The stubby man quickly stood up and stumbled out the door.

"He's right," Emma whispered, doing her best to speak up. Smee's words resonated in her ears. The whole thing was her fault. Regina was after _her_. She was the reason his men were injured and the ship almost destroyed. It would be better for all of them if he just gave Regina what she wanted, "just take me to Regina."

"Smee doesn't know what he's talking about," Killian growled, whipping back toward her with a slight snarl still on his face and breathing still heavy.

Emma shook her head, trying to protest. He should listen. He should just let Regina have her before he was the one that ended up dead. It was time, she had been running from Regina for far too long. "Killian, please."

He ignored her, and instead starting ordering one of the men to stay down here to watch her and to let him know if her conditioned worsened while he tried to get them to shore. Before she completely lost consciousness, she wasn't sure if the words he whispered into her ear were something she imagined in her poisoned haze or not, but they stayed with her and repeated in her brain throughout her fever dreams.

_"I'm sorry, but I can't lose you."_

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**Present**

**Killian POV**

_Emma_.

The name pushed him faster through the forest.

Emma. Emma. Emma.

Not that long ago, nothing had mattered to Killian except for his revenge. It was something he had worked toward for hundreds of years, committing so many unforgivable acts to somehow find a way to kill Rumplestiltskin. When he had returned from Neverland, the Queen had approached him, offered him a deal. She said she knew where Rumplestiltskin's dagger was hidden and that she would tell him the location of it if he procured someone for her, a princess. Even though he would happily make any deal that would help him accomplish his vengeance, who was he to say no to a queen? But he soon saw that he had been blind, that this wasn't a happy twist of fate, but instead it was Providence playing the biggest joke it could play on him. Because he hadn't just found a princess to procure, he had found _her_. Emma.

Deep down, he knew the moment he met her in that dirty tavern that he wouldn't be able to hand her over to Queen. But he had still captured her, taken her prisoner aboard his ship because one woman wasn't going to stand in the way of his revenge. The only woman who might have been able to do that was gone, murdered in front of his eyes. He was convinced no one would be able to touch his heart again. He was a sodding fool. Only after a few days on his ship, he had begun to see how much alike they were and was unable to deny their connection. She was his twin flame, and he'd been drawn in like a moth.

No one had ever intrigued him or challenged him as much before, her quick wit and sad eyes getting under his skin. Just like when Baelfire had been aboard his ship all those years ago, he slowly found himself making excuses to delay their sail toward the Queen's palace, coming up with more reasons why he couldn't hand her over just yet, all of his justifications sounding pathetic even to himself because he couldn't bring himself to face what was really going on, how she was effortlessly working her way into his heart. Not yet. He had fought it, like bloody hellfire he had, for a very long time, but it had been so long since he had cared for anything other than his revenge, that when the first inklings of hope for something more had formed within him, his resolve had completely crumbled.

She was more than he deserved, she was _everything_, so he had bided his time, keeping her as far away from the Queen as possible and dreading the day when he would finally have to take her back to her home, because she would have to go, she was a princess, and he would not force her to give up her life, her family. But being in such close proximity with her everyday, seeing her and not being able to touch her, smothering every affectionate impulse he had, was slowly killing him. He decided that when the right moment happened, he would tell her; spill everything he had been holding back, make her see that he would change for her, give up his revenge, beg for anything she would give him. But then Regina's men had attacked his ship and she was poisoned. The stark fear that she would die on ship with him helpless to do anything just like Milah had, had shook him to his core and he had barely been able to maintain control of himself in front of his men as they had tried to get to shore as quickly as possible. Emma, the stubborn lass that she was, had of course blamed herself for the incident and asked to be taken home and wouldn't listen otherwise.

But that never happened. Instead, he had come back to find their carriage destroyed and Emma gone. He knew who had done it at once, _Regina_. Rage and panic had erupted from him, and he had immediately set sail for the Queen's palace, intent on killing Regina for taking Emma from him, to save Emma before it was too late. He had broken into the palace easily, like he had done so before, swinging open the door to the dungeon with a shaking hand while hoping to the gods that Emma was in there, but Regina had been standing there instead, Emma's swan locket dangling from her hand. She had thrown it at him, saying that he could have that instead of Rumplestiltskin's dagger as payment for bringing the princess to her. That she was already dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

Killian had snapped, a block of ice settling in his chest, his whole body feeling as it was being ripped in two. Seeing red, he had lunged for the Queen, hook up and ready to impale into her heart, but with a snap of her fingers and a cloud of purple smoke, he disappeared and landed face down on a beach. A bloody beach. He hated that beach.

Emma was dead and it was his fault. He _knew_ it was his fault. He should have never agreed to a deal with the Queen, never selfishly kept her so long on his ship, never let her out of his sight that day after she had been poisoned. A second chance had been within his grasp and he had let it slip through his fingers. He didn't have a crocodile to blame this time, only himself. He had stupidly left her alone, hadn't been there to protect her when she had actually needed him to.

And he was alone. Again. Bitter, heart-broken, and drenched in self-loathing, the locket the only thing he had left of Emma.

He stayed frozen in a state of grief for weeks, unsure of what to do with himself. At least Milah had known he loved her, at least they had gotten to spend ten years of being together. Emma didn't know, she would never know. They would never get to be together like he had one day hoped they might be. And perhaps that's why her death seemed worse, why he wasn't sure if he was ever going to recover. There was nothing left for him. Nothing.

Until a swan showed up in his room.

That bloody swan that he had loathed on sight because it had Emma's necklace hanging from its beak. _No one _was going to take that from him. He had chased it down, eventually stealing the necklace back, but the way the swan had looked at him. Something about it was… different. Something made him unable to stop following it. He had gotten the biggest shock of his life.

He had stood by the lake, hidden in the bushes, staring in awe as it had suddenly transformed into Emma. It was as though his heart had finally starting beating again after two months. After two, agonizing months of thinking she was dead. But before he got a chance to step forward and reveal himself, someone beat him to it. _Him_. Killian _loathed_ him, even though all he knew about him was what little Emma had told him. The bloody _prince_. Bloody idiot didn't even see how weak and tired she was, he just kept spinning her around and talking to her like she wasn't about to fall over. And as he listened to her words, it felt like he was being ripped in two all over again. She wanted the prince. Emma wanted _him_ to be the one to break her curse.

He should have left then, walked away before she even knew he was there, but being the fool he was, he couldn't. After thinking she was dead and not seeing her for so long, there was no way he could _not_ talk to her, see her, touch her, no matter what she felt. It was still _Emma_. He would help her, even she didn't want him.

But as he lay in bed that night, tossing and turning, unable to get the image of them kissing out of his head, doubt formed within him. Emma had found _him_. She had been on _his_ ship, and in _his_ cabin, when she could have been going after the prince herself to lead him back to the lake. There was no way she could have known he had her necklace. She must have come to his ship for a reason. And as he replayed her and the prince's conversation down by the lake, _she_ had never said that she loved him. Only he had._ A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. _And he wanted her. Even if she wanted to try to deny it, he was going to let her know when he went got back to the lake. _He_ wanted to be the one to break her curse and he only could hope that she would let him. Her ending up back in his cabin that day was fate. And after all they had been through together, if he believed in anything, it was fate.

After a brisk journey through the woods, one that realized was a lot longer when he wasn't chasing a bird, he came to the clearing where the lake was. It was still a little before dusk so he looked out at the lake, expecting to see Emma in swan form floating around in the water, only… there was no swan in sight. It was only then he realized it was eerily quiet. He circled the lake, hoping to find some sign of her, thinking that maybe she didn't come out to the water until she could transform, but there was no sign of her. At the sound of another voice, Killian whipped around, his hand shooting to the hilt of his sword. "If you're looking for Emma, she's not here." The man he had seen come to warn Emma last night stepped through the trees, a bow casually swinging from his hands.

Killian narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean she's not here?" he growled, his eyes continuing to distrustfully dart around for any sign of Emma or where she might be.

The man set his bow down, leaning against the tree. "Do you see her anywhere?" he asked with a sigh, his eyes wide as he looked around.

Realization suddenly dawned on Killian. Of course Emma would leave without him, probably trying to prove some point to him, to show that she could take care of herself. Which he knew, but that still didn't stop him from wanting to try to help. "Stubborn lass left without me," Killian muttered under his breath with a shake of his head.

"Leave?" the man suddenly stated, his brows furrowing in confusion. Which only made Killian stare back at him in confusion also. Hadn't he just said she wasn't here? Wasn't he the one who brought the bloody prince here?

Killian pointed back toward where the ball was going to be, his eyebrow raised. "To go break the curse," he said, stating the obvious.

The man blinked a couple of time, his hand coming up to scratch the side of his head. "Right," he said quietly, mostly to himself.

An uncomfortable feeling crept up the back of Killian's neck. Something wasn't right. Either the sod was daft or something, probably magic, was messing with his head. "Did something happen?" Killian asked tensely, trying to smother the bubble of anxiety that had started to form in his stomach. Emma was fine. She had to be.

"I don't remember," the man said, his eyes glazing over. That was it, he had better things to do than listen to the bloody fool. He clearly had no idea what was going on. Turning toward the forest, he hoped he would be able to catch up with Emma before she got there. "Where are you going?" the man suddenly called out, irritation in his voice.

Killian didn't turn around. "I've got a ball to get to."

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A/N: Ahhh! Hope you liked it, especially Killian's POV. You all have no idea how nervous I was about writing that/publishing it. I've never written anything from his POV before so it was definitely nerve wracking! Hmm so what all do you think _really_ happened to Emma/where she is? And will Killian see through Regina/Rothbart's plan? Stay tuned :)


	6. Chapter 6

Helllllo! So this chapter is a little shorter than the others, but it's probably one of the most important ones and something big happens. You'll see why... :)

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**Chapter Six**

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**Present**

**Emma**

Emma idly circled around in the little water she had down in the dungeon. It was partly underground, so some of the lake water had managed to leak in. Every inch of her felt bruised after spending hours of pushing her body, beak, and wings against every surface to try to find a way to escape, growing further and further into despondence when every attempt failed. She had woken up in the cool, damp place, in swan form, and didn't exactly know what time it was, but she didn't doubt the ball was about to start any second. The ball where she was suppose to be, to break the curse and to save her family and the entire kingdom. She couldn't believe it. Regina and Rothbart had won. There was nothing she could do to stop them. Not while she was trapped in the dungeon.

The only hope she had was that maybe Killian would come looking for her when he didn't find her at the lake. It would be almost impossible to find her down here, but if she trusted anyone to find her, it was him. So she waited. He would find her. She couldn't stand the thought of what would happen if he didn't.

She jumped when she heard the heavy, metal door start to creak open, hurriedly flapping out of the water to hide behind one of the stone pillars, just in case it was Rothbart coming in to check on her instead of Killian coming to get her, like she desperately hoped it was. It wasn't a voice she was expecting that spoke, but it belonged to someone she had been worried about since the night before. "Emma?"

At hearing her name, Emma craned her neck around the pillar and spotted Graham peeking his in head through a crack in the door. Seeing her, he let out a sigh of relief and stepped into the dungeon fully, walking over to her. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

The confusion and awe that he was here must have been visible on her face even as a swan because he continued, "Your friend, he was looking for you –I couldn't remember what happened," Graham stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to run through his hair, "Regina must have done something… I've got all these conflicting memories in my head," he knelt down in front of her, the most sincere expression on his face, "I'm sorry."

She squawked as loud as she could and hobbled toward him, trying to communicated in any way that it was alright, that it wasn't his fault. She had woken up in the dungeon, after being passed out for hours from Rothbart's torture. She had feared what Regina might have done with him after his betrayal and felt nothing but relief at seeing him alive and well. He had also said her friend had alerted him something was wrong, and she could only assume he meant Killian, which brought a whole other flood of emotion. _Killian was here_. The sentence alone brought her some peace among the chaos of emotion she had been overloaded with since the night before. She knew he would have figured out something was wrong the moment he returned.

"You okay?" Graham asked. She nodded up at him as he scooped her up in his arms and then started glancing over his shoulders and around the room, expecting Killian to pop up at any second.

"He already went to the ball," Graham informed her, making her heart stop in her chest. No, he wasn't suppose to be there. Regina was there. Just the thought of them in the same room together made her want to be sick. If she was too late, she couldn't lose him either. "He thought you had left without him."

While he had been talking to her, Graham had stopped in the middle of the room. Growing impatient and worried, Emma twisted and squirmed in his arms, trying to tell him to get a damn move on it.

"Right," Graham sighed, hurrying out the door, "let's go."

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**Killian**

Panting, Killian hopped off of the stone ledge he had just climbed over to get into the castle grounds. Being a pirate, there was no way the guards would have allowed him to come through the main entrance, especially since he _did_ happen to be the pirate that had originally kidnapped her.

He couldn't believe he had never caught up to Emma. It had been barely dusk when he arrived at the Lake, how had she transformed and gotten that far ahead of him that fast? He had been practically jogging the whole way. Hopefully he could find her, catch her attention, and pull her aside before anything happened.

Effortlessly sneaking past all the guards, Killian followed the music and found his way into the ballroom. Hundreds of guests were gathered around toward the front, all eagerly watching something. He froze, his stomach churning and tightening painfully. Emma and the prince were dancing, smiling happily at each other as they glided across the floor. His hand involuntarily clenched into a fist. Gods, she looked beautiful.

No matter how much the site of them dancing made him want to smash something, there was something about the scene that made him unable to tear his eyes away. Suddenly, he was struck with an earth-shattering realization.

_It wasn't Emma_.

It wasn't her. He just _knew_ it. Everything about the way she moving, smiling, looking around the room… it was all wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong. Wide eyed, Killian stared at her parents and the prince, looking for any indication they had the same suspicions he did or noticed that the woman standing in front of them was _not_ Emma. But the King and Queen continued to beam at their 'daughter' as she danced with the prince, like nothing was amiss, and the prince was acting the same way too. _How the bloody hell did they not notice? _

A second realization hit him even harder. If Emma wasn't here, then _where was she?_ His blood started to boil as he looked over the fake Emma again because who the _bloody hell_ would pretend to be her now? Intense rage flooded through him and before he realized what he was doing, he strode through the middle of the ballroom, dead set on revealing the phony and finding out where his swan was.

Some of the guests froze when they saw him purposely striding toward the prince and princess, people murmured and backed away, and he could see Emma's father push Snow behind him and start to move defensively toward him, but without a second thought, he ripped 'Emma' from the prince's arms and threw her harshly against the wall, digging the tip of his hook threateningly into the side of her neck. "Where's Emma?" he snarled irately, "What have you done with her?"

"Get the hell away from my daughter," the King ordered angrily, his sword not pointing at Killian's back, sticking into his shoulder muscles sharply. But Killian kept his eyes solely trained on the perpetrator in front of him, his grasp unyielding and unrelenting.

Jaw clenched, he dug his hook deeper into the person's neck and finally drew blood. "This isn't your daughter, your Majesty," Killian informed him gruffly without turning around.

"I am Emma-" the phony began in a mock innocent voice, green eyes wide. Green eyes that shined nothing like Emma's.

He pushed the phony against the wall again harder, her head hitting the stone with a loud thud, effectively shutting her up. "Who are you?" he roared.

Tired of the charade, the Emma in front of suddenly smirked, no warmth or teasing behind it like the real Emma's held. "Out of all people," her voice rang out coldly, manipulatively, "you are the last I'd guess would see through me," she leaned closer to his face, baring her teeth at him, "_Captain_."

He only knew of one person who drawled his title with such disdain and haughtiness. "Regina" Killian growled, her name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. She was the source of all of Emma's suffering. Blind with anger, Killian ripped Emma's necklace off her neck and reared his left arm back before forcefully digging his hook in her chest, right underneath her collarbone. It wasn't enough to kill her. Not yet. She would bleed out slowly and painfully before that finally happened. After crying out in pain, she was enveloped in a cloud of purple smoke. It soon dissipated, leaving Regina in her true form. Killian could hear gasps coming from throughout the ballroom. "_Now where the bloody hell is she_?" he shouted, his tone harsh and commanding.

Emma's mother gasped. "Did you just – "

"Oh, she's not dead," Killian sneered, staring down Regina with a menacing and venomous glare, "Not yet." But she would be soon. Especially if he had any say in the matter.

At his words, Regina burst into hysterical laughter, not stopping even as more blood started to drip down her chin and chest. Snow White took a step toward the two, crossing her arms, face hard as stone, "What's so funny?" she asked, her voice flat and unwavering. It was almost like she seemed… disappointed.

"Fools," Regina spat, blood spilling out of her mouth in the process, "did you really think I would waltz in here without the least bit of insurance? But unfortunately for you," she went on, turning to all stare at them smugly, "the pirate decided to take matters into his own…" Regina turned her dark eyes toward Killian, a victorious grin on her face, "hook."

Killian tensed at her words, the inklings of fear stirring deep within him. "What are you talking about?" he demanded lowly.

The King's voice bellowed and echoed throughout the entire ballroom, his sword now pointing at Regina's neck. "What have you done to my daughter?"

As Regina kept laughing, it all began to dawn on Killian, her words repeating like a dark nightmare in his head. _Insurance… his hook…_ Terror and regret seized at his heart. Regina had connected them somehow. Whatever happened to her happened to Emma. "No," Killian whispered, looking down at where he had stabbed Regina with horror filled eyes. No. _No_. His whole body was shaking. He couldn't have.

"I'm sure she's wondering," Regina went on between heaving breaths, turning slightly maniacal as she confirmed what he absolutely did not want to believe was true, "why there's suddenly a hole in her chest."

"No," Killian screamed, the word coming out choked and strangled. What had he done? No. no. no. That was all he could think, all he could understand, just _no_. It couldn't be happening. Not again, not because of him. Killian dropped Regina to ground in a heap, running out of the ballroom as fast as he could. He had to find Emma.

_Emma_.

He was never going to forgive himself.

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: Sooooo... that just happened. Even if Killian does find her, he'll still has Rothbart to deal with ;) Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!

love you all!


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